The sun was setting but the thermal density of the hundreds of decares of sand seemed to multiply the order of magnitude. It was going to remain hot for quite awhile. He tied his bolero around his waist, two hours after true dark he'd need it to cover his arms, even if the wind didn't come. But these days, it always seemed to. Not like before, when there was vegetation around these parts. He pulled out a crude navigation instrument, took a bearing, and began to walk. How he always seemed to find himself in these situations was beyond him. All the careful planning, ensuring each vector of his scenario was accounted for. Every variable attended to. Well, no surprise. You can't account for everything. he thought. He expelled a raspy cough and continued on his trek.
Night fell, and with it, the winds. Shivering in his jacket he pulled out his last remaining glow stick to illuminate the compass. Not being able to measure the distance he'd already crossed was discouraging, but what other choice did he have? Stay behind and wait for rescue? Who'd come, and why were questions he refused to idly ponder. The only recourse was to march on, no matter consequences beyond his control. He'd have to face hurdles, if any, when he came across them; but worrying about them now wasn't going to get him home. His glow stick's light diminished long before his hope of sunrise, but that would only bring back the oppressive heat.